


i could go backwards forever

by mozartspiano



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozartspiano/pseuds/mozartspiano
Summary: "how far now?""four minutes."david looks out his bay window again, as if he'll see william's uber. as if william could be rolling down the road now if he is four minutes away.
Relationships: William Nylander/David Pastrnak
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	i could go backwards forever

**Author's Note:**

> title from _shroud_ by nathaniel rateliff. 
> 
> this can be blamed on the sun in toronto yesterday and the melting snow in christie pits and nathaniel rateliff's show on sunday night which truly was chicken soup for my soul.

"how far now?"

"four minutes."

david looks out his bay window again, as if he'll see william's uber. as if william could be rolling down the road now if he is four minutes away.

"oh that thai restaurant on the corner closed. i liked that place."

"how far now?"

"david." he looks out the window some more. it's still dark out, the sun only just starting to pink the edges of the night. his street is empty and his house is quiet. it's also -

"i'm so sick of snow," william says. he is a summer boy born from storms. "it keeps following me around."

"i don't mind it so much," david says. he thinks of his father's hands zipping his coat shut. he watches the thick flurries float around. they don't seem to want to land. "pretty."

"we're turning onto your street now."

david looks around his quiet house. he looks at the mantle and the fireplace. he looks at the long wooden dining room table that his designer picked out for him. he looks at the photos that climb up the stairwell: william's golden elbows hanging around david's neck, his mother in the garden outside the church his parents got married in, himself on brad's back on the great wall.

"this commute was easier when you lived downtown."

"and who is to blame for that?"

"shh," william says and david has talked on the phone with william for millions of hours so he knows it's a sweet face he's making, his eyes probably soft and sore from the early morning. "it's your mom's fault too. don't you dare put this all on me."

david would have been happy with his condo, like the rest of the boys. instead he lives here, in a big house with a backyard and room for a baby out in cambridge. perhaps it is entirely his mother's prodding to blame; her careful eyes and serious mouth and gentle "a house is an investment david" and "you do want to have children one day, don't you david?". but that would be leaving out the very important factor of william over facetime and the look in his eyes when he said "oh it has a porch," and the fact that william's eyes have a history of making david do very stupid things.

"i might have to pass out on your couch for a few hours. i'm sleepy as hell."

"i will bring a pillow down for you."

william lets out a giggle, breathy, and then there are headlights along the driveway. david untangles himself from the armchair in which he has spent the better part of an hour getting pins and needles along his knees. the hardwood floors of this house groan and squeak, a cacophony that leads him to the front door.

when he opens it william is on the other side, backpack over a camel coat.

"hi," he says, smiling like the summer sun.

"hi," david says back.

they move in tandem, david stepping back as william steps forward, david pulling the latch shut as william stoops to drop his backpack, and then into each other, close, william's cool nose against david's.

"hi," william says again, sweet like the berries that grow along the edges of his parents backyard, and david is kissing him.

william has small hands and dry palms. david knows how they feel tangled with his own and dipping under clothes and now this, familiar, william's fingers splayed along his neck to make triangles of skin. his eyelashes say hello to david's eyelashes. the scruff of hair along his top lip brushes against david's top lip. he tastes like cheap gum and sleep.

"i'm exhausted," william exhales like it's falling out of him.

"you got sun in california," david says, leaning back to look at the little red freckles that cover william's nose. "you look good. less pale."

william smiles at him, eyes closed. he slumps against david a little. "thanks, baby."

it's not hard to make william smile. that doesn't mean david isn't proud every time he does it. he takes his hand off william's waist, puts his thumb against the dimples in william's chin.

it's still snowing outside. david hangs william's coat up for him. david finds the remote for the gas fireplace and turns it on. he climbs onto the sofa next to william who has his head in one hand, elbow against the sharp back watching flurries pass by the window.

"hungry?"

"i'm okay."

"water?"

"i'm fine, david," william says. he brings his face closer to david's, looks at david. his eyes have been looking at david since they were kids but they're still a lot, pale blue like moonlight on the snow banks outside his grandmother's house in the mountains.

david rubs at the grey thin skin under his eyes with his thumbs, sees william's nose scrunch up into wrinkles. "want to nap? then food?"

william nods. his fingers are caught tugging at the pocket of david's hoodie.

"there are pancakes at the diner down the street," david says. it's stupid to have spent years looking at one face and still get caught up in how the sunrise blue in the room turns the ends of william's hair silver. "you like pancakes."

"i do."

"we will get you pancakes."

william laughs in a sigh and slumps into the couch. he pulls at david's hoodie pocket and david goes, fits himself into the spaces william has left for him.

david pushes up on one elbow, near william's ear and -

"ouch."

"sorry." david lift his elbow and smooths william's tangle of hair back to his ear, where it belongs. he gingerly places his elbow back. it's easy to look at william falling asleep from here. william's belly is flat and warm against his and david wants to feel it better. he pushes up william's sweater, then his own, presses their skin together.

william sighs. he turns his face to look away, out the window.

"how long can you stay for?"

"sunday night," he says. there's a pink pimple at his jaw and david presses at it with his thumb. "stop, that tickles!"

"want me to squeeze it?"

"you're gross," william says, smiling again. "you're disgusting, i've never liked you once."

david kisses him. he has shared more sleepy kisses with william over the years than he can count. william is usually sleepy or giggly or grumpy or quiet and overthinking and wound up in a spool that takes david hours and many kisses to unwind until they're both sleepy again.

now, william lets david kiss and push into him, their bellybuttons pressed tight together. he lets david puts a hand along the column of his throat, lets david lick the back of his teeth, lets him whisper his name into skin until he doesn't.

it's abrupt, when william turns his face into david's shoulder where his hoodie bunches up.

"will?"

william shakes his head.

"shy, baby?"

"no," william whispers.

david tugs out of his hold, lifts himself against william's protests until he can gets his hands around william's face, his warm skin, his closed eyes, pinched tightly shut. david tries to kiss him again.

"tired? feel bad? what is wrong?"

"it's stupid." william opens his eyes only a little. he looks down and david follows his eyes, dipping his chin so he can catch william's gaze.

"will."

"i miss you already," william says. "even though you're right here. isn't that a stupid thing to say?"

the house is quiet. outside the light has shifted, snowflakes glowing pink in the weak sun through clouds, lonely snowflakes waiting for the world to wake up. william's hair still looks silver in david's living room.

"not stupid," david says, feeling himself speak but barely hearing the words.

"is," william says. he isn't a crier but his chin quivers like a kid. "i miss you all the time and now you're right here and i still miss you."

david knows that silence isn't an answer.

he would like to reach into william's ribcage and plant ivy, let it grow around his heart so that he can feel david all the time. he would like to take william to his grandmother's house in the mountains, see william's profile against the coniferous trees laden with snow. he would like to have this kind of warmth every day, william's dry hands and his red freckles and the way his mouth looks when it calls david baby.

"i'm sorry," he says or maybe william says. maybe they both do.

"i should sleep. i'm exhausted and i need to sleep and not think."

"yes."

"and then we'll get pancakes," william says and he puts on a smile. "i hope they have blueberry ones, those are my favourite."

david wanted to play hockey so he moved to sweden. david wanted to be good so he practiced every day. david wants this more than almost anything so. so he holds his breath until july.

"you and blueberry pancakes," william says, his eyes sweet again. _oddaný_, his mother said, the first time david brought william home. "what a nice morning. everything that makes me happy in one place."

"do you want me to get a quilt?" david asks. "are you cold?"

william shakes his head. "can you turn around?"

he does as he's told, turns so he can look at the back of the sofa. william's arms come around his middle. william's face presses into david's shoulder. he can feel william's heartbeat through the layers of their sweaters and it's familiar the way the sun is familiar, the way the sound of skates on ice echoes through david's head when he tries to fall asleep.

"sunday is a long time away," he says.

william mouth is making shapes against david's back. he bites david's sleep shirts and sucks on them, leaves david with patches of wet against his skin. "okay."

"will."

"i said okay."

outside knocks slowly, first the sound of david's neighbour's starting their cars, then the chatter of school children. he hears the rumble of trucks along the main road start up, dogs barking, louder as his house bleeds blue around him. it is going back to its usual colours; pale yellow walls and white ceiling all that is visible with william against his back. he hears the creaks and william's soft breath.

the walk to the diner will be sunny, hopefully. william will like the way the tulips in his neighbour's yard have started to sprout early. he'll let david hold his hand. he'll get syrup all over his fingers but won't let david's mouth clean them, will giggle when he tries.

david wishes he could take this for granted.

**Author's Note:**

> [say hello](https://statsmcbitch.tumblr.com/)


End file.
